Confessions of a Bookaholic

by Joslyn Westbrook

I’ve existed vicariously through the amorous lives of book heroines, imagining I were them, and their spellbinding heroes—alpha, broody, however—were all… Him.

A tall, slim, flawless-bodied Barbie Girl, while I’m more of a petite, snack-loving Carbie Girl. In fact, I’m actually munching on my favorite chips as I type this.

This book is already so pick me

“First of all,” Sage hissed. “Why the F-word are you calling me at the butt crack of dawn to ask if I’m awake? Second of all, why the H-word are you even whispering?”

Omg can we plz just write the actual cuss word

Don’t get me started on the number of times I’d walked in on Lucas and his girthy bananaconda emerging from the shower.

EXCUZSE ME WHAT I CANT

“Girl, when I’m with AJ, there is absolutely no time to sit around and chat about other people’s business—not when we’re too busy fucking like a pair of manic bunnies.”

Sounds like someone i kno

“I know the kind of books you read, Macy.” His voice was low, authoritative, and gruff, his eyes masked with desire. “They’re hot, they’re dirty, and if we were living out pages from our book, this is the scene where the hero tells the heroine to spread her thighs.”